Blank
by Lanna Chan
Summary: Remembering isn't a strong point.


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Air.

It is essential to our survival. We breathe it in every day; fill our chest, lungs, with it. Without air there would be no 'us'. No humans, no man, no women. Nothing. There are organisms that don't need air. To breathe without air; and live in such extreme conditions. Such a strange thought to our oxygen dependent bodies.

The air that I breathe in now is so cold. It seems to form ice inside my lungs chocking me and killing me. I do not like it. The chill that embraces me is not welcome but I am so tired and weak from fighting it off. It wraps its cold arms around me and I can do little to stop it.

I see now that I am truly a weak and frail human being. Not strong of mind or soul like I had once thought. Here with my back to the wind and my legs numb and without feeling I realize that. To think that a man like me- someone as great as me would perish in something like this. I would not have believe it if you had told me. And yet…

With my feeble arms wrapped so closely against my heaving chest I am only left here alone with my thoughts. Not a soul to speak to. Not a soul to offer aid in my survival. Just the contestant cold air weakly entering my lungs. It seems to be my only friend now. The only one here. Even though it claws at my weak body, cold hands wrapping their way across my feeble heart it is the only companion I have.

How dark my thoughts must be to start to think in such ways. The thing that tries to rob me of life, that tries to kill me I know think of as a companion. Friend? Foolish thoughts! Thoughts that a dying man thinks of.

It is impossible to recount the days I have spend lying here. How many days I have been fighting without resolution? Weeks or even hours I doubt that it will even matter. No one is going to find me. No one would dare even look in such a place. How silly it was on me to even think I could make it? Am I really that foolish? Are we really that foolish?

I don't think I can continue anymore. My hands are so cold, bitten time and time again by the frost. I can see the effects ebbing across my knuckles; pale skin turning ugly and black. This will likely be my last lines.

My last lines.

Such an ugly phrase. Something that I do not wish to ever see. How before this I thought that I would never see. Even now I seem to stand defiant to the cold wind that threatens to take me. Maybe I shall not die in such a pathetic way. Perhaps I shall not go as quietly in to the night as I have first thought.

Or perhaps I shall simple fall asleep and the cold chill will take me silently.

Perhaps, perhaps…

Perhaps.

I pulled my jacket closer around my chest and shivered. Again I was stuck waiting for the bus while the rain relentlessly pelted my body. I had no idea the time my soaked hair told me it was far too late to be waiting for such a stupid contraption. Letting the people around me know just a hint of my frustration I began a slow and shivery walk. It wasn't that I didn't like walking. I just didn't always take a liking to walking in the rain, even dressed in a long coat like I was.

"Any colder and it would be snowing."

I again pulled my jacket around me. Talking seemed to help warm me up. Even a slight bit of warmth was welcome now; no matter how crazy I seemed.

"Next time I see that bus driver I swear I'm never going to be allowed on a city bus again."

I grinned to myself and imagined some of the things I would have to say about public transit. Most of which would be the deciding factor of me walking ever where for the rest of my life.

I saw myself tripping long before I even felt it. By now my boots where damp and feet where numb that even the cold rain didn't do a thing. I watched as the street turned into blurry faces and that still turn into a grey moody sky. Yet the cold numb water that I knew waited me on the chilly street did not come.

Confused I simply lied there wondering if it really was that cold that all my limbs could no longer feel anything at all.

"Hey lady, are you alright?"

"I'm not sure. Am I?" I asked the voice that I couldn't see.

White hair and a pale face distorted my view of the dank sky. A pleasant view compared to the previous one I noted.

"Hello?"

I felt myself being righted; and vertigo set in quickly. Again faces blurred by confusing my senses. Of course they quickly righted themselves as I took in the site that greeted my now upright standing.

Covered in a red coat the man that stood before me had white hair that seemed to age him. I saw the rain fall off the ends of his nose but it did not seem to bother him. His smile was sheepish.

"Next time you should watch where you're going." He spoke gently yet I could pick up the subtle undertone on his voice, the one that hinted at cockiness and attitude.

I liked this mystery man even more.

Which I guess is to be expected of me. After all you could tell just by looking at me I was the type to pick a stranger off the street to happen to like. It wasn't my fault of course. Their badass looks and cocky attitude was just the kind of attitude I liked. Was that so wrong?

"Yea whatever. What's your name?" I slid easily into what felt like another person. A rebel without a care throwing all caution to the wind at a chance for an adrenaline filled thrill. I wore her like a second skin now, changing between the childish and good girl to the devilish wild child with ease.


End file.
